


Courante

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [22]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Misunderstandings, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Sometimes Jack fucks up. Sometimes Amelie makes him work for his forgiveness.





	Courante

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the supporter who made this fic possible! please enjoy~

If Jack had to reflect back on how he ended up in this situation, he would have to put the blame solely on himself. Or, well, maybe a little on Angela. A lot on Winston, too. An argument could be made for the whole of Overwatch also, but Jack was in an introspective mood and would let that slide for the bigger picture. The blame was ultimately his, doubly so since it was him alone Amelie seemed pissed at. Jack let out a sigh that he quickly smothered with his hand, ears keyed to the iconic click of Amelie’s heels against the stone floor of the council building. His noise was smothered, but his grin was loud.

So, she had come after all. Good to see that all those bribes weren’t misplaced.

Time to apologize in the best way he knew how.

\--

The mission had begun like any other: loudly, dangerously, and with a bang. Or in this case, an explosion. Many of them. Nearly a dozen, all at once. Jack cursed and pressed his back against one of the remaining walls in the small-town square, feeling the rumble of falling stone reverberate against his spine. It was nearly strong enough to rattle his teeth. What the hell were they exploding over there? Small nukes?

“Mercy, what’s your status?” he shouted out, not trusting the comm links to pick up over the sound and interference caused by the rising smoke filling the air.

Her reply was crackled, her voice a bit weak. “-ere, 76,” she called back, her voice a bit weakened by her coughs. “At your three. Stay put, I’m coming to you!”

Jack breathed out a sigh of relief. This was such a clusterfuck, but at least she was safe. For the moment. Hopefully longer. It was hard to be optimistic when the very air he breathed was choked thick with the dust of crushed homes, streets, and everything else this town once had to offer. The mission plans hadn’t spoken of bombers. They hadn’t even been hinted at. If it had been, Mercy probably wouldn’t have been assigned to it. He scanned the partially leveled town and tried to spot her through the rising dust and destruction. For someone who dressed all in white, it was exceedingly difficult to see her.

“Jack!” she called out, and Jack looked up, watching her jump down to him from some building that looked about as shaky as she did. Her usually pristine uniform was blackened with soot and dirt, one of her wings a little singed but still in operating order. “Are you okay, Jack?” she asked, stumbling a little when she touched down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he grunted, wrapping an arm around her to drag her back into the protecting shade the building cast. “You need to call for evac. This is no place for someone like you.”

“If you’re staying, then I’m staying,” Angela huffed, blowing a lock of her dirty hair from her eyes with a bit of a glare. “I’m not made of glass. I’ll be fine.”

Somehow, Jack doubted that. An explosion boomed a few hundred yards from them, leveling another two buildings with a jarring crash. “Who the hell is doing that?” Jack spat, turning on his heel with his gun raised, using the sight to try and see through the thick smoke for the one causing all of the destruction. The mission hadn’t specified this level of danger. It was supposed to be a simple evacuation aid run. Cut and dry, in and out, assist and move civilians from their homes if they hadn’t already heeded the national order to do so. They had touched ground to begin doing just that, but it had only taken a few minutes to realize that the town was as empty of the living as a crypt, the homes stripped bare inside with nothing left but trash and junk.

The explosions started going off about two minutes after Jack and Angela realized that something was very, very wrong with the scene in front of them. After that, it had all turned hazy.

Angela leaned against the wall at their backs and sighed, shaking her head. There was a cut on her cheek, one that had stopped bleeding but still stood out dramatically against her pale skin. “I’ve no idea,” she murmured, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I’ve tried looking for survivors, perhaps injured who weren’t able to evacuate with the rest, but I’ve found no one. It’s almost as if we’re caught in a demolition. But that can’t be right, can it? Why bother with the phony story if it were just an excuse to level the city?”

Jack narrowed his eyes and red off the readings behind his visor, frowning when it failed to make anything make sense. “I think we’re obviously in the middle of something we’re not supposed to be seeing,” he muttered, turning back to meet eyes with her. “Have you contacted Command yet? Tell them the situation and that we need evac for the both of us. It’s too risky to try and find the bombers ourselves.” If Jack were to be honest, this town was already lost. With the amount of damage it had already seen, there was no way to salvage anything. Buildings were crumbling if they were still standing. They would be coming down soon anyway, bomb or no bomb.

Angela pulled a solemn face, one that said she didn’t want to abandon anyone who still might be here. But, she was still a realist beneath all of that optimism and desire to do good. She nodded her head and thumbed her ear piece, speaking into it in rushed, clipped tones to report in all that Jack and she had seen, and all the good they couldn’t do here anymore. It was a shame, no way around it, but Jack knew a lost cause when he saw one, and a leveled town was as good as gone when the destruction reached calamity levels of untenable.

Another explosion sounded somewhere to their left, this time closer. Jack turned towards the sound, gun raised to take another scan of the horizon. God, but it was hard to see. Were they really the only ones here? If the civilians were really all gone, then who the hell was setting off the bombs? Were they on a timer? Jack wasn’t so well-versed in explosives to tell from the sound alone, but he had a nagging suspicion that things weren’t as cut and dry as they felt. Even bombers needed protection. Even terrorists made sure to cover all of their bases.

“Jack, I’ve spoken to Command. We have new orders,” Angela called out behind him, her voice a little tight.

“And?” If Winston kept them here a minute longer, Jack would eat his visor, dust and all.

Angela let out a breath, the sound of her kicking at the rubble angrily a little muffled in the sound of a building collapsing somewhere off to their eight. “We need to get out of here,” she said, looking a bit more upset to be told to leave a veritable warzone than she probably should be. “Winston is sending an evac team for us. We need to clear the blast zone and get to higher ground where the chopper can reach us. This dust is too thick for them to see us.”

Jack loved being right. He nodded his head and looked around them. Would it be best to climb to the roof of a remaining building, or should they just take the safe route and get out of the town entirely? There was no sign of bombers, so the possibility of timed explosions made staying near the few upright structures a bit more dangerous than the alternative. With Angela with him, he probably shouldn’t take risks like that. Jack could probably manage to walk it off, but she sure as shit could not do the same.

“Let’s get moving then,” Jack decided, holding out a hand to help Angela walk over the rocky, unsteady surface. “There’s a hill just outside of town, so let’s aim for that and wait for the chopper…” He trailed off, warning bells beginning to ring somewhere in the back of his mind. Angela stared up at him in confusion, pausing mid-step.

“Something wrong, Jack?”

Yeah, he thought, his palm beginning to sweat. He had a bad feeling that told him something was very, very wrong.

The only warning he received came in the form of a threatening rumble, and that only lasted half a second before the wall came crashing down on top of them. It didn’t offer much time to act, but Jack did his damnedest despite it. “Angela!” he grunted, grabbing the small woman around the waist and lifting, running them both as fast as he could manage away from the collapsing building. Dust clogged his vision, choking through his mask. Angela clung to his arm and swore violently in German, probably thinking he couldn’t hear her through the cacophony.

A second later, Jack was cursing too. A piece of rock caught his boot, sending them falling forwards and to the ground. He did his best to take the blow, rolling onto his shoulder. Angela grunted as she hit his chest, laid out on top of him in a filthy, dust-speckled heap. The building behind them crumbled like a sandcastle caught in the wind, its crushed remains falling to a rest just shy of their toes.

“Are we… Are we alive?” Angela coughed, keeping her face buried in his chest, her normally immaculate hair a mess of dust, sweat, and fly-aways.

“If we aren’t, I’m calling foul on the big man upstairs for letting an angel follow me down to hell,” he grunted, coughing himself once he managed to drag his visor off his face. The vent holes were completely packed with dust, the front cracked and ruined.

Angela smacked her hand against his chest in mock anger. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Jack,” she huffed, rolling off his chest to lay beside him, too tired to move. “You aren’t going to hell on my watch.”

Jack grunted out a laugh and forced himself to sit up, taking in the destruction around them. The city was entirely leveled, nothing but rubble for as far as the eye could see. Off to his left he could make out a few remaining walls, just vestiges of buildings that hadn’t quite collapsed. “And it’s that kind of charity that is exactly why I wouldn’t be seeing you when I died,” he muttered, running his hand through his short-cropped hair. Where were their enemies? It couldn’t be safe to just lay out here in the open.

Angela was replying, but Jack didn’t hear it. The moment she opened her mouth, Jack looked down, catching sight of the tiny red sniper’s dot hovering just over his heart. The world filtered down to a single point, one that didn’t have room for Angela’s voice, the smoke in the air, or the bruises covering his body. Jack’s hand tightened on air, his gun lost in the mad dash he had made to get Angela to safety.

Shit.

Mouth dry, Jack looked up slowly and tried to see where the sniper was hiding. Angela was still talking, dusting herself off as she lectured him on and on about his lack of self-worth, about the inherent good in people that he obviously couldn’t see. He was sure she would keep thinking that when his brains were splattered all over her, but he wasn’t so petty as to want it to happen just to prove her wrong.

A glint of silver caught his eye, and when Jack followed it, he saw it was on purpose. Relief flowed through him in a dizzying wave, and he slumped down a bit, leaning back on his hands as he met eyes with Widowmaker lurking behind one of the few standing walls left.

So, Talon had been behind this. That was going to make for an interesting mission report. They weren’t really in the habit of leveling entire towns, but at least they had had the foresight to evacuate it before hand with some phony ass earthquake warning. Jack drank in the sight of Amelie and the way she cradled her gun close, her lips tight as she stared at him pointedly. Did she want him to go over there? She probably wasn’t happy to see Angela there with him. Working with a partner always made it so hard to sneak away for a quickie, especially when the situation was as dire as this one.

He turned to look at Angela, and he was surprised when she looked back at him, taking his face in her hands to check him for injuries. “You’re being awfully quiet, Jack,” she chastised, leaning closer to look into his eyes. “Are you concussed?”

Snorting, he pushed her away and rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Angela. You should go look for any stragglers who might need help.”

“Oh, you’re right!” she gasped, leaving him be to look for her weapon.

“Course I am,” he huffed, putting his attention back on Amelie. She hadn’t left, had she? Ah, no, he could see her still by the wall, her gun in hand though there were no enemies left for her to shoot.

Jack only had a chance to raise his hand and wave for a moment before the look she was giving him turned anything but pleased to see him. He furrowed his brow, about to mouth out a question to see if she were alright or injured, only to duck his head a moment later as a bullet lodged itself an inch from his head into the shattered wall at his back. What the fuck was she doing? Was she crazy? He carefully lifted his head again, but she was gone, leaving only smoke, dust, and destruction behind her.

Angela’s speech stopped and Jack turned to look at her, seeing the fear on her face. “What the hell was that?” she breathed, staring at the bullet hole and then back at the empty town.

For once, he and Angela could agree. What the hell was that about?

\--

Jack didn’t get a chance to ask until a couple weeks later. Every attempt to contact Amelie had been met with static, and any mission he took that put him in contact with Talon went about as well in terms of seeing hide or hair of her. Jack was curious, but not curious to go asking Doomfist at point blank range where the hell Widowmaker had gone. Chance was all he had left to rely on, and he considered himself lucky that he only had to wait a couple of weeks for his patience to pay off.

The mission he was on was nothing special. Reconnaissance in Spain staking out a high-level technology firm for suspected dealings with one of their numerous enemies. After three days of nothing but dull office talk, Jack was ready to call it quits and go home. They obviously weren’t involved with anything more illicit than the worst company birthday he had ever had the misfortune to witness over the mandatory surveillance tape review sessions, and if he had to make one more venti soy caramel sprinkles frappechino for one more asshole, he was liable to break cover and say fuck it to the mission and Winston both for putting him on such a shitty undercover op. Barista? Who in their right mind would believe Jack was a barista? The teenager sharing his shift sure as shit didn’t. The rest of the café probably didn’t either.

So, when he caught sight of Amelie seated in the company café, sipping on a cup of tea she had brought herself with sunglasses and headscarf hiding her features, Jack was about to weep with relief at the prospect of something better. She was as gorgeous as she ever was, her pleated blouse and pencil skirt immaculate and boasting some designer label Jack couldn’t hope to pronounce. She hid her face behind a newspaper, her lips moving ever so slightly as she conversed with an invisible companion. On a mission then, just like Jack. Given the business-look of her outfit, perhaps she was even working the same leads he was.

It only took a moment to whip up a cappuccino thanks to his crash course in coffee making, and another to cross the café and reach her table. She barely glanced at him, only noticing him when he put down the cup at her elbow, a smile already on his face. “Fancy seeing you here—” he began, only to be leveled with a glare so icy that it sapped the heat from the room as easily as liquid nitrogen.

“Get the _hell_ away from me,” she hissed through clenched teeth, loud enough to turn a few heads. She threw down her newspaper and grabbed for her purse, looking as angry as a tiger that had just had its tail stepped on by some idiot in combat boots.

“Woah, wait up, Amelie,” Jack tried, snagging her arm before she could slip out of her chair and run off. “What the hell is your problem? I thought you would be happy to see me. You ran off so fast the last time we saw each other. I wanted to see what that was all about.”

She sneered at him as if he had spit in her coffee and tried to sell it as creamer. “I don’t want to think about you, let alone see you,” she snapped, yanking at her arm, trying and failing to shake off his grip. “I would think you would see that my avoidance has been by design, but apparently I’ve hidden that too well from you.”

What? “What do you mean, you don’t want to see me? What the hell is your problem?” he asked. “Have you been avoiding me—”

“Is this man bothering you, miss?” an accented voice interjected, a large hand grabbing Jack by the shoulder and dragging him away from Amelie’s table.

Jack bared his teeth but remembered his cover. Smile like the barista he was pretending to be. “Hey, hey, I know her, alright?” he said, looking at Amelie to vouch for him. “Go ahead, tell him. This is my girlfriend.”

Amelie shot him another cold look, this one even colder than the last. “I have never seen this man in my life before,” she said, jerking her arm free from his grasp. She wrapped her arms around herself and shouldered her purse. “What a despicable man. Do not lie.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but the other man was nodding to her, shoving Jack in the shoulder to get him to walk away. “I thought so,” the guy grunted, cracking his knuckles. “Don’t worry, miss. I’ll take care of this.” And with that said, Amelie was off without another look back, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Jack to deal with this try-hard muscle headed do-gooder.

Shit, Amelie was already out the door. If he didn’t hurry, she would disappear in the crowded streets and he wouldn’t catch her again. He tried to side step the guy, only to be cut off instantly. “Hey, dude, I’m not trying to cause trouble—”

“You think it’s okay to harass women?” the guy said threateningly, taking a step towards him. “You think it’s fun, huh?”

Well, that didn’t go as expected. Jack held up his hands and backed away, looking for an exit as quickly as he could. How he was going to explain to Winston how he had gotten fired, he didn’t know, but Jack could tell already that if he wanted Amelie to talk to him, he was going to have to try a lot harder than just a free cappuccino. 

\--

If that had been it, if that had been the last of the strange, almost hostile behavior from Amelie, Jack might have just chalked it up to her having a bad day. Lord knew he hated being called out during an undercover mission too, so a part of him figured it had just been the wrong time to come up to her. She had been working and he had deserved the anger for possibly ruining her cover. When doing work like theirs, anonymity was their livelihood. It kept them alive and saw the mission through. If Jack had only had a little more discretion, he figured it would have resolved itself in time. 

So, when Jack saw her again seated in the fancy French restaurant, plate of expensive food before her and no earpiece in sight, he saw it as an opportunity to make amends. No work, no deep cover, no bystanders or mission handler to appease with results and no play. It had taken a week, a hefty bribe, and more favors than he would like to think about to figure out where she would be, but it would all be worth it once she forgave him for whatever it was that pissed her off during that mission in the long-leveled town.

Jack checked his hair in the mirror mounted on the wall, smiling to himself at the thought of taking her back to some fancy hotel after this. It had been awhile since he had last shared a night with her. Too long, really, when it came down to it. Paris had such a great vibe to it. Lovers dreamed of coming here to have a little fun, and Jack knew he wanted to make good on the dream of fucking beneath the Parisian stars. Amelie had to share that dream too, right? She was probably just as pent up at him, and there was no way he was going to waste this time in Paris and all of those favors to wind up going home alone tonight.

“Looking sharp,” he whispered to himself, straightening the suit jacket again before he turned away from the mirror. Sharp enough to seduce his moody lover, he hoped. Jack slipped out of the small side hall he had been lurking in and took a look around the restaurant. There weren’t many people here, the place far too ritzy to allow just anyone to dine within its walls. A few couples were curled up in intimate little clusters, candles on the tables as they whispered and ate and made plans for how they planned to spend the rest of their evenings. Jack moved out into the main restaurant floor, keeping quiet and unobtrusive. Amelie was the sole patron sitting on her own. Jack smiled, more than ready to rectify that. There was no way she could refuse him when he had gone this far for her. She was a sucker for romantic gestures, and Jack was in one hell of a romantic mood tonight.

The dim gloom of the restaurant seemed to lift the closer he got to her table, the glow from her candle revealing her like Aphrodite rising from the sea foam. It was no ocean tide, but there she was, seated in at a far table meant for two but set for her alone, sipping on wine and looking bored as she waited for her meal to arrive. Jack smiled and moved through the tables as skillfully as a dancer, dodging waiters and entrees and using the natural movement of the wait staff to hide his approach. She hadn’t seemed to notice him, and he intended to use that to his advantage. Amelie was always such a fan of romantic gestures. Jack was certain to outdo himself with this one.

“Eating alone, mademoiselle?” Jack asked, tucking a hand behind his back to bow demurely to her, savoring how she startled at the sound of his voice. He was no fluent, accent-less speaker by any means, but her confusion told him that she hadn’t expected to see him here, let alone speaking her native tongue.

Instead of a smile, or even pleased surprise, Amelie shot him an annoyed look, taking her wine glass in hand to sip it with pursed lips. “And what do you think you are doing here, Jack?” she asked with an icy glare. “I thought after Spain you would know to leave me alone.”

That locked him up a bit, some of the swagger from before disappearing. “What?” he muttered, staring down at her in surprise. How had this not worked? “I thought you were just mad I blew your cover.”

“Oh, Jack,” she hissed, her beautiful features contorting into a look of pure rage. “If only that was the least of your transgressions.”

Jack swallowed, resisting the urge to tug at his collar. This was looking to be a bit more involved of a conversation than he had anticipated it being. The other diners were beginning to notice their conversation, errant whispers breaking out as their curiosity grew. “Can I sit down?” he asked, gesturing at the empty seat in front of her. “I don’t want to cause a scene.” Or get thrown out of some fancy French restaurant before he ever got to sample the food.

“You may not,” she said, her fingers curling around the stem of her glass.

“Okay, well,” Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. This was going to be awkward no matter what he did then. He just hoped they could reach a truce before the waiters decided to do more than just glare off near the kitchen doors. “What on earth did I do to get you so mad? Did I forget something?” He gave a wry smile, leaning closer. “Did I forget our anniversary?”

Jokes were the wrong way to go about this, it seemed, since Amelie’s glare turned absolutely frigid. She set down her glass of wine with a sharp tap, her fingers tightening around its stem. “If you don’t get the hell away from me,” she said with acid in her voice, “then I will stab you through the chest with a steak knife and watch you bleed out on the carpet.”

He threw down his hands, patience gone. “What the hell did I do?” he demanded, moving in front of her so she couldn’t ignore him. He put his hands on the table and leaned down, forcing her to meet his eye. “Seriously. Amelie. What the hell did I do to you? Did I piss you off somehow? Did I fuck something up? I can’t fix or apologize if I don’t even know what I did to make you mad.”

Amelie bared her teeth and scooted back in her seat. “Why don’t you go ask Angela?” she hissed, standing up to glare at him properly. “Why don’t you go ask all the other women you are fucking behind my back?”

Shock wasn’t a word nearly strong enough to describe all Jack was feeling. He reeled, utterly dumbstruck. “Angela?” he asked, mind utterly blank. “What the hell do you mean, Angela? Other women? What the hell do you think is going on?”

“I saw you together that night in Tunisia!” she said, her voice growing louder.

Realization rushed in and Jack sputtered. “That… Amelie, that was to protect her!” he insisted, hating how everyone was watching. “The building was coming down!”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Amelie spat, taking up her wine glass and throwing it in his face. It hit him in a splash of cold, the shock too much to block it. Jack sputtered and staggered backwards, wiping at his eyes. He should have known not to leave himself so open to a woman scorned.

As fast as a lightning strike, Amelie drew back her hand and let it fly, slapping him across the cheek with a sound that was far, far too loud to ignore. If the entire restaurant wasn’t watching then, they sure as hell were now.

“What the fuck, Amelie?” Jack gasped, wiping the wine from his eyes only to be greeted by a look of utter revilement.

“Leave me alone!” she hissed, grabbing up her clutch and shoving past him, disappearing through the far entryway with nothing but her fury in her wake. A waiter ran up and patted at Jack’s suit with a towel, babbling in mindless French. Jack barely heard him.

Just how much had he fucked up?

\--

Which brings him to now, to the moment he had been waiting for. To the moment where he made right what he had wronged and showed Amelie that she was the only woman for him. Her heels were louder now, her breath nigh on undetectable. Jack held his own, his back against the cold stone wall as he went over his options. She would be turning the corner any second now, and the moment she did, he would be ready to make his move. If Amelie wasn’t going to let him apologize in person, then he would just apologize to her the only way he knew how: with persistence and unprofessional mission behavior.

 _Just like the night they met_ , he mused silently, scenting her perfume on the air before he saw her. They really had come full circle, hadn’t they?

Amelie’s heels slowed and Jack could hear the rhythmic swishing of her long pony tail as she looked around. What was she doing here anyway? The council building was a pretty low target when it came to Talon. Perhaps she was doing some reconnaissance? There was a small beep, the pressing of an ear piece communicator he realized, and then Amelie’s smooth, sweet voice filled the air.

“This is Agent Widowmaker, reporting in to Talon Ops,” she recited, her heels silent as she stood in place just adjacent to Jack’s hiding place. “No,” she answered, her voice a little annoyed. “There is no problem. The mission is going as planned. I’ve infiltrated—”

She was cut off abruptly by a tinny sort of sound, one that Jack could identify as being her handlers shouting at her. Amelie tried to cut in a few times, but her voice never got through the first word before they were cutting her off with their tirade. She stood there in silence, letting it roll over her, and when they finally paused, she took in a breath and continued.

“I understand that I’m not supposed to call in unless it’s for a final report,” she said icily, her tone still warmer than it had been the last time Jack had tried running into her. “But I feel there is something off about the building and I wanted to request an assessment on how to proceed.”

The tinny voice returned, but only for a few moments. Amelie let out a harsh breath and kept walking. “Fine,” she said in a clipped tone, and Jack rushed to ready himself. “I’ll just figure it out myself.” Her heels were even louder now with her frustration, and when she walked past the corner, completely blind to Jack’s presence, he gave himself a moment more to take her in as she ended her call with Talon Command.

Jack had never seen Amelie in an outfit quite like this. For all intents and purposes, it looked just the same as her regular combat suit. The only difference now was that it was as gold as gold could get, clinging to her lovely bluish skin like a second skin. Why the change, he wondered. It looked pretty attention getting from where he was standing, the sheen reflective and probably bad for blending in. Maybe it was so reflective to keep her from being seen by sensors? The council building was littered with cameras and censors of all kinds, so that could be why. Whatever the reason was, Jack couldn’t complain about the effect. She looked stunning, made all the better for the fact that he hadn’t been able to touch her in a good four weeks.

Good thing he was here now to apologize. They wouldn’t have to keep up this damnable distance anymore after this. Jack smiled and made his move, carefully approaching her from behind. Her pace didn’t falter in the slightest, her pony tail still swaying against her shoulders as she moved. Her gun was in her hands but held loosely, and when she looked around, she did so with a sigh, obviously upset that she had been chastised so thoroughly.

“You really should smile more,” Jack said, his voice cutting through the silence like a gunshot. Amelie startled and whirled around on her heel, gun up and locked on his head in half a second, maybe less. Jack just smiled, lifting his hands up in greeting. She really was so quick to aim that at him nowadays. “I know it’s been awhile, but babe, come on, there’s no need to look so sad when I’m right here.”

“Jack,” she hissed, her lips curled into a frown. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“I came to apologize,” he said, taking another step towards her, confident she wouldn’t really shoot him. “You keep dodging me in public, so I figured this was the best way to figure out where you would be. You can’t really slap my face and walk off when you’re in the middle of a job, can you?”

Amelie smiled sweetly, but her eyes were hard. “No, I suppose I can’t,” she said, lifting her gun higher, her eye behind the scope. “But I suppose I could just forgo a slap and give your face a bullet instead. Perhaps then you will realize my feelings toward you right now, Jack. Maybe then it will stick.”

Jack covered his heart with his hand, sighing out a laugh. “You really are mad at me. It’s like I told you before. Angela and I aren’t together. She’s just a teammate.”

The gun didn’t move an inch. “I know what I saw,” Amelie sniffed. “You cannot lie to me, Jack. I won’t fall for it.”

It was going to be harder to get her to listen than it had been breaking in here, and that was just Jack’s life, wasn’t it? He sighed again, imploring her with a look to lower her gun and see reason. The things he did for this woman.

“I’m not lying, Amelie,” he tried, swallowing a bit when her gun pressed against his sternum at the use of her name. He smiled nervously, beginning to sweat. “I swear. Do you really think so little of me? Why would I do that? You know nothing could ever compare to you.”

Amelie furrowed her brow, her lips pursed as if she didn’t quite believe him. But, to his relief, she lowered the gun an inch. It wasn’t much but it was enough to let him breathe. “Prove it,” she said icily. “Prove to me that you aren’t with her. If you are so devoted to me, then I want to see it.”

“How do you expect me to prove it?” Did she want him to call up Angela and put her on speaker? That would probably do it, but the fallout would be utter hell, not to mention the conversation of how and why he needed to Angela to testify to begin with was not something he wanted to think about at all. Jack shivered. “Haven’t I already, though? Come on, Amelie. How many women do you think I dote on like I do you? Those fancy rooms, the weekend trysts. You can’t really think I do that with anyone but you.”

She averted her eyes, her cheeks darkening. “That’s… That doesn’t prove anything,” she muttered, her gun falling another inch. Slowly, Jack began to lower his hands. “You could be a fool like that. You could be showing Angela and who knows how many others the same treatment when I’m on assignment.”

“You greatly overestimate how much Overwatch pays,” he laughed. He moved very slowly as he took her gun in his hands, tugging it from her lax grip to set it down against the wall. “I would never step out on you babe. I know what we have together isn’t conventional, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect it.”

Amelie crossed her arms, frowning. “I know what I saw,” she murmured, glaring at him. It wasn’t as hot now, her anger tempered for the moment, but Jack knew it could be coaxed back into an inferno if he didn’t play this right. Just because she was unarmed didn’t mean she was harmless. Far from it. 

“You saw me protecting a teammate from falling rubble,” he said, taking a step closer, resting his hands on her shoulders. God, she smelled good. Even in the field she was as perfect as ever, gorgeous and tantalizing and everything he knew he should avoid for the sake of his sanity. “You saw her check me for a concussion. That’s it. I would’ve done it for any of them, and she would have done that to any of them too. Genji, McCree… Hell, even Winston.”

She cracked a smile and tried to hide it, but Jack didn’t let her. He took her by the chin and tilted her head up, smiling back at her when she blushed. “You’re way too beautiful to be jealous, baby girl,” he chuckled, looming closer to brush her lips with his own in a kiss that was more a tease than anything. “So, come on, how about it? Will you forgive me now? It’s been hell having you angry with me.”

Instead of answering, she went up on her toes and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him shyly. Jack laughed into the kiss and held her closer, looping his hands around her waist and dragging her against his body, savoring the feeling of her soft curves and the smooth, slick material of her golden suit. This was a horrible place to do this, the security cameras no doubt still filming and the night guard most certainly still doing their rounds, but when it came down to it, Jack and Amelie had done worse in worse places.

And it could stand to get a little worse, couldn’t it? Jack let his hands rove lower, cupping her pert ass with a growl. Amelie gasped and broke the kiss, her cheeks flushed brilliantly and her lips trying valiantly to curl into an expression of displeasure. It was far from it, so Jack gave her ass a squeeze to help her get there.

“Jack!” came her affronted little cry, her hands going tight on his shoulders. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making up with you?” he laughed, guiding her against the wall beside her gun. She was pouting now, her cheeks beautifully colored. “Don’t tell me you aren’t interested. It’s been so long since we’ve last had each other. I know I miss it something awful.”

“I’m on a mission,” she gasped, giving a little shiver as Jack slipped his thigh between her legs, rolling it against her covered heat.

“Never stopped us before,” Jack posed, leaning down to kiss her neck, his hands running down her body and searching for the zipper he knew was hiding somewhere on her suit. They could always get rid of the security tapes before they left, and if a guard came, well, they would think of something. They always did. It was probably good to distract her this way regardless. Jack could only imagine the kinds of things she could get up to in a building like this. Talon would probably yell at her again, but hopefully a good hard fucking would put her in a better mood to take it.

Instead of a disagreement, Amelie gave a needy little moan. Her hand caught one of Jack’s and she guided it to her ribs, and after a moment of searching, Jack found the fastener on her suit and set himself to opening it fully. “You’re such a beast,” she whined, the distance and wait no doubt as present in her as it had been in Jack. “I expect something great if you really want my forgiveness, Jack.”

“Oh, I think I can arrange that,” he said, taking her by the thighs and lifting her up, coaxing her to wrap her legs around his waist to put them as close together as they could possibly get. Amelie was a hot press of soft curves and warm muscle, her scent filling his head in waves. “God, I’ve missed you so much,” he groaned, rolling his trapped cock against her, already growing hard.

Amelie swallowed a whine and helped him shuck off her suit, dragging it down her upper body to bare her breasts and skin. Jack wasted no time in savoring both, first with his mouth and then with his hands, sucking and nipping and licking until Amelie couldn’t even begin to hide her pleasure. “Jack,” she gasped, fisting her hands in his hair, yanking him closer, keeping his mouth where she wanted him most. “Jack, you beast.”

“Don’t be too hard on me, baby girl,” Jack growled, moving his hands lower, dragging the rest of her suit down to bare her ass. He yanked down her panties with it, letting it hand from her legs in a shimmer of gold fabric. “I can’t hold back when I’m with you. You taste so good. I can’t get you out of my mind. It’s been hell on me, babe. Complete hell.”

“You really did miss me,” she breathed, her body rolling against Jack’s as she pressed herself closer, spreading her legs wider. “God, Jack, I missed you too. You’re the only one who can satisfy me. Fuck me, please. I need your cock inside me.”

“You want me?” he asked, grinning like a wolf as he yanked at his belt and trousers. “You want my big, thick cock fucking into you until you can’t breathe? You want me to use you like the needy little thing you are? Tell me how much you want me, baby girl. I want to hear every fantasy you’ve had while missing me inside you.”

Amelie keened pitifully, her voice only growing louder when Jack managed to free his cock from his pants and rubbed the head against her wet folds. God, and she was already so wet. A few weeks apart did that, didn’t it? She was so addicted to his cock that it must be awful for her to be this close but still be denied. Her legs wrapped around his waist and shook as she tried and failed to drag him closer. Jack grinned down at her and she whined again, wanting it so much but hating how she had to work for it.

“Please, Jack,” she begged, eyes blown dark with lust and need enough to stagger. “I want your cock. I want it fucking me so hard. I want you to fuck me and fill me up and make me beg. I want you to make me cum on your cock. I want you to make a mess of me.”

Jack’s blood felt as if it were on fire. Her words went straight to his cock, and before they even had time to fade away, he was thrusting forward, sinking into her hot, wet folds with just a grunt for warning. Amelie’s eyes went wide, her mouth falling open in a wail, and her body shook like a leaf in a storm as he speared her in place. Her hands went tight in his hair and Jack hissed at the vice-like grip she held him in. Too good. She was far, far too good, and Jack was going to go feral before he ever learned how to control himself while buried in Amelie’s allure.

“J-Jack!” she cried, fidgeting and writhing against the wall in her attempts to move, to fuck herself on his cock. It was impossible in this position but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “Jack, oh, please,” she begged.

He pulled back and then thrust back in with a slowness he had to be proud of, sweating and shaking already. “You like that?” he asked, giving her another punishingly slow thrust. “You like my cock inside you, baby girl?” He knew he did. God, but she felt like heaven, so silken and sweet, dragging on his cock in the best way imaginable. All the weeks of denial had built up into this moment and he couldn’t imagine the reward being any better than this.

“So good,” she gasped, bouncing desperately, nearly so desperately that she almost slipped out of Jack’s arms. He held tighter though, keeping her in his arms and keeping her in place. She met his eyes with a look of pure need, parting her full lips on a moan that sent Jack fucking her all the harder. Gone was her breath, her control, her cool, calm exterior. She shuddered in his arms and let out a lusty moan, one that made Jack growl like the beast she professed him to be.

His hands went tight around her hips, and he let instinct guide him down, taking her with him to lay her out on the floor. With the new angle, he could brace his knees on the chilly stone floor and fuck even harder, watching Amelie as she arched her back and gripped at her hair. Her eyes were wild, her skin flushed a brilliant violet.

“You are so goddamn gorgeous,” he grunted, fucking her the way she wanted, the way she loved. She brought her hands to his shoulders and tore at the fabric covering them, desperate for the touch of his skin. “So sexy. You really thought I could ever give this up for someone else? God, Amelie, no one is as good as you.” He looked down between them and watched the wet, flushed slap of his cock as it rammed into her, her thighs slick and dripping with her need. “No one makes me burn like you. I don’t think anyone else ever could. You’ve spoiled me too much.”

Amelie let out a moan and closed her eyes. “You’re just saying that, Jack,” she gasped, even as her cheeks flushed with the praise.

“I would never,” he grinned, rolling into her to make her moan again. It sounded so good, better than the sweetest music and far more addicting than any vice he had ever tried. “You’re the only girl for me. No one else can even hope to compare.”

“T-that’s right!” she laughed, meeting his eye with a shaky grin. “You are so fortunate to have me. I should have made you grovel for my forgiveness. On your hands and knees, even.”

“So I could eat you out as an apology?” he asked, loving how she blushed, her game found out before it even began. “Babe, if you wanted that, all you needed to do was ask. It’s hardly a punishment to have your gorgeous thighs wrapped around my head.” He could think of plenty of worse ways to die than strangled out by her legs with her taste coating his tongue. Far, far worse ways.

“You are so lewd,” she moaned, closing her eyes for a moment. She tangled her fingers in his hair and dragged him closer, treating him to the sound of her gasps and cries with her lips against his ear. “An utter rake. A dirty old man.”

“If this is what it gets me,” Jack laughed, “I don’t see my behavior changing any time soon—”

They both shut up at roughly the same time, instinct and training kicking in as an unfamiliar sound filtered through the wet, messy sounds of their coupling. They met eyes and held their breaths, realization hitting a moment later once they recognized what it was they were hearing.

Footsteps, Jack ventured, and the rhythmic jangling of keys bouncing against a thigh.

Amelie froze when the sound of footsteps echoed closer, her hand reaching for her gun before she even bothered to turn around to check. Jack acted on impulse and grabbed her hand, pinning them both flat against the floor. She opened her mouth to argue, but he solved that by kissing her silent, eyes focused on the far hall and the incoming patrol guard. So, she hadn’t taken care of the guards, then? He wasn’t sure if that was sloppy or just considerate on her part. Hiding a body probably would take up a lot of her time, but leaving them still walking around like this didn’t seem all that smart to him.

“Larry?” a voice called out. “You down there? It’s time to switch off.”

Jack smiled into the kiss and pulled back, putting his finger to her lips to keep her quiet. What a risk, but it would be so good if it worked. Slowly, he began to move his hips again, grinning when Amelie’s eyes widened in horror. “Yeah, it’s me,” Jack called out, lowered his voice a bit as he fucked into her with twice the speed of before. “What do you need, man?”

“Come on, man, you know how I hate stayin’ late,” the guard called, not bothered to walk closer. “Don’t make me come get you. I’ve walked up enough stairs tonight already.”

Jack laughed and Amelie tried to stifle her sounds. “I feel you, man. Feels like I’ve been working up a sweat all night. Don’t worry, I’ll be down in a minute. Gotta take a piss first, you know how it is,” he called out, leaning down to leave a hickey on Amelie’s bared neck. She whined and clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and blackened with lust.

A sigh echoed through the halls and the guard swore under his breath. “Fine,” he grunted, sounding pissed off but too tired to bother arguing. “I’ll be down by the vending machines. Come find me when you’re done so we can switch off. I ain’t hearing from the boss again on breaking protocol.”

“Sounds good, man,” Jack grunted, losing himself in Amelie’s perfumed scent.

As the footsteps faded off into the distance, the guard none the wiser, Jack let out a breathless laugh in Amelie’s ear, rolling his hips gently to make her shudder. “Did you like that?” he asked, feeling how wet she had grown while they hid. “Did you like the idea of them seeing us? Seeing you? God, Amelie, it would have been the best thing they had ever seen if they did. A man could die happy after seeing you like this.” Happier still if he were the one fucking her, but that was all for Jack.

“Oh my god, Jack, I’m so close,” she whined, holding tightly to his hands wrapped around her waist. Her nails dug into his forearms but Jack ignored it, concentrating solely on getting her off. It wouldn’t take long, not with her so on edge. Jack was close too. Too close to risk given the situation.

With a decisive move, he pulled out and used his grip on her hips to roll her over onto her hands and knees. She cried out with denial but it morphed into a moan quickly enough when Jack thrust back inside, pinning her to the floor with the force of his movements. “Jack!” she choked, driven that much closer to the edge, her fingers clawing at the slick floor, searching for traction. “Please, Jack, oh, Jack!”

“God, I love how you say my name,” he growled, rocking faster, moving a hand from her waist down to her clit to rub in time to his thrusts. Amelie let out a wrecked little moan when he did, her body shuddering, her insides clenching, her voice going higher and higher until she just couldn’t take it anymore.

“ _Jack_ ,” she gasped, cumming just like that, her head hanging low as her arms gave out, leaving her with her ass up and legs spread wide, practically begging him to cum as well. “Oh, god, Jack. I feel so good,” Amelie said breathlessly, looking a mess but wearing it well.

“I know, I know,” he grunted, sweat chilling on his heated skin as he gripped her hips hard enough to move and dedicated himself to getting off. It wouldn’t take much, he knew. Not when he felt so good, and especially not after going without her for so long. But, god, did she make him wish he could last. He wanted to fuck her more, to get her off a second, no, a third time. Would she beg him to let her rest? Or would she treat it like a game and beg him to keep going? The thought alone was enough to nearly drive him over.

“Jack, Jack,” she gasped like a mantra, rolling her hips back to meet his every thrust, clenching down on him just as rhythmically to work him over. “Do it. Do it already. I want you to do it. Make a mess of me.”

“I don’t have a condom,” he grunted, sweating even more. No wonder he was struggling. He was proud of himself for holding on this long without one. The feeling of her against him was heavenly.

“Do it on my back, then,” she begged, looking over her shoulder with a needy little pout. “Mark me, Jack. Please.”

Well, when she said it like that, there was no way on earth Jack could hold out any longer. Stronger men than him would have had trouble resisting. He moved quickly, using the last dredges of his control to pull out and settle on the soft skin of her lower back, using his hand to work himself like a madman. He came in between breaths, groaning lowly as he spurted thick lines on her purple skin. The pearly white went so well with it, painting her in streaks to make her the mess she had begged him to make of her.

“Jack!” she cried, what little strength she had left gone. Without his hands and cock holding her up, she seemed to melt into the floor completely. She crumpled down and Jack let her, laying her out gently on the stone floor. The mess he had made of her back was going to be hell to clean up, but that could wait until after he had gotten his breath back, and maybe if he were lucky, the rest of his sanity. Sagging against the wall, Jack fixed his trousers and let out a laugh of a sigh, nerves singing in the best way. What a wild ride. Amelie always was. It was one of the things he liked about her best.

“You alive down there?” he asked after a moment of ragged gasps and slowly cooling sweat, taking in how Amelie had rolled herself onto her side. She was still looking rather flushed, but she was making efforts now to cover back up. What a shame, but for the best, he supposed.

“I’m better than that, Jack,” she purred, shooting him a satisfied grin. Her suit closed with a muted zip and Jack decided not to comment on the fact that she was still wearing his cum like a well-tailored suit along her back. “I asked for something good and I think you certainly gave it to me.”

Jack smiled back, cupping her cheek in his hand. God, but she was gorgeous. “You know me, I live to please pretty little things like you,” he laughed, and when he caught the frown on her face, he amended it quickly enough. “It’s just a good thing you’re the prettiest thing there is. I don’t know how I’d keep up if I had to do that more than once.”

It didn’t completely get him out of the dog house, but it worked well enough for the moment. In the haze of their post-coital glow, it seemed that Amelie was willing to put up with a bit more than she was before. “You’re such a beast of a man,” she murmured, cupping his hand in her own to hold him against her cheek. “You are very lucky I like it.”

“I’m the luckiest guy I know,” Jack agreed, letting out a little sigh. “So,” he prompted, “am I forgiven? Is everything good between us now?” He really hoped it was because he didn’t know if he could handle going again anytime soon. Not after a fuck like that, and certainly not in this building as the guards patrolled.

Amelie pulled away and tapped at her full lips with the pad of her forefinger, humming as if she needed to consider it. “I am not sure, Jack,” she murmured, giving him a coy look. “You did hurt my feelings very badly. And what we just did was as much for you as it was for me. Perhaps I need something else to show you are really sincere.”

Jack sagged against the wall, defeat looming ever closer. “Come on, baby girl, what else can I do?” What did she want? A dozen roses? Another weekend in Milan? He would do it if she wanted it but it was a steep price to pay for another apology.

Her smile was absolutely deadly as she crawled closer to him, her hips swaying and her zipper still teasingly low against her sternum. “Oh, Jack,” she cooed, crawling her way into his lap with a cheeky little cock of her head. “I think that I want proof.”

“Proof of what?” he asked, his hands falling to her hips on reflex.

“Proof of your devotion,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her lips against his cheek as she spoke, kissing him with every word. “I want you to prove to me just how much you want me. How much you need me in your arms.”

Jack swallowed, his cock trying valiantly to get hard again even though his mind knew it was a losing battle. “And how do you expect me to do that, baby girl?” he asked, staring into her dark eyes. “What can I do to prove it to you?”

She loomed closer, her soft, addicting lips kissing and lapping at his ear like the most affectionate kitten. She hummed, her body pressing against his in a soft, warm embrace. “Well, _Jack_ ,” she breathed, saying his name like a moan, “I think if you don’t know, you best start working hard to figure it out.”

Before Jack could summon up a confused noise, Amelie was out of his lap and sprinting down the hall, her gun thrown over her shoulder and a cheeky wave in the air. “Amelie!” Jack hissed, scrambling to his feet, every part of his body screaming for the satisfaction hers had promised.

“Good luck, Jack!” she laughed, disappearing around the corner. “You’re going to need it!”


End file.
